


collect the stars, collect the memories

by DeadlyBeauty23 (madandimpossible)



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Comfort Sex, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-13
Updated: 2018-04-13
Packaged: 2019-04-22 11:30:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 13,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14307714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madandimpossible/pseuds/DeadlyBeauty23
Summary: a fic!dump of all my works from Livejournal mainly focuses on the Eleventh Doctor & his relationship with Amy Pond. Ratings will vary.





	1. none so vividly

**Author's Note:**

> rating: G  
> "forgetting is worse than death and remembering hurts just as much."

He remembers everyone.  
  
But none so vividly like Amy.   
  
When he shuts his eyes – on the rare occasion that he does sleep – the world comes to a grinding halt.   
  
'Doctorrrr' Her red hair fans out behind her, the sunlight catching it and setting it on fire. She whips her head around to wink at him, 'Slowww. You're so slow!' He blinks furiously, hand rising to block the sun so he can see her running ahead of him.   
  
She shimmers out of his view – the grass and sky and trees soon following.  
  
  
(“What's worse? To die or to forget?” He meets her eyes, questioning and young.  
  
“Forget. Always. People die, but they'll live in your memories, if you forget—it's like they never existed.”   
  
“It hurts to remember too.”  
  
“Yes.” He agrees - Melody is just as bright as her mother. )  
  
Arms wrapped tight around him, solid and warm, a lack of personal space and a mutual desire to be as close as possible.   
  
He shuts his eyes and the world stops spinning for a few seconds – he swears he can't even feel the passage of time any longer.  
  
Gotcha.  
  
( In another time – another place – another whole universe – The Doctor and Amy Pond never stop. The world pivots and twirls around them but they're at the center and nothing else matters. It's intimate and innocent all at once, forbidden and allowed, a paradox twisted inside out.)  
  
The Doctor opens his eyes and exhales slowly.   
  
There is nobody here but him.  
  
A mad-lonely-man with a box.


	2. missed moments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> rated: M  
> prompt for eleventy kink  
> summary: alternative for "The Lodger". The Doctor is trapped on Earth and he lives a 'normal life' for months/years until Amy finally returns.

He fell back onto the cold grass and shouted; “Amy!” But the TARDIS, his TARDIS, was already fading from view.   
  
That was two weeks ago.  
  
The communication ear piece had gone wonky after the first week and all he was getting was static. Eventually, the Doctor had to give up on trying to fix it. He still kept it by his bedside table – just in case – something came through.   
  
A nice Irish lad by the name of Danny was his flatmate (he, however, did not appreciate the Doctor calling him 'Ol' Danny Boy!' every time he came home from work). Danny was a tall man with a gaunt face, high cheekbones and gray eyes, he reminded the Doctor of a praying mantis in the way that he held himself.  
  
Danny worked at a pub a couple blocks from their flat.   
  
“Where do ya get all this rent money? You never leave the flat!”   
  
“I leave!” The Doctor protests, “I go to the park and...”  
  
Danny quirks a brown eyebrow at him, “And what?”  
  
“I wait for my friend.”  
  
“Sounds desperate to me, mate.” Danny snorts and turns back to the television. The Doctor scoffs and fixes his bow tie but, there is truth to Danny's words, he can't just wander to an ATM every once in a while and pull out a ton of money. He needs to blend in.  
  
He wasn't desperate waiting for Amy. He knew she'd come back. The TARDIS would bring her back.  
  
It had only been two weeks and five-and-a-half days. Not a long wait at all, really!  
  
-X-  
  
“And you say you're qualified for this position?” The woman behind the desk looks unimpressed, peering at his physic paper.  
  
“Extremely qualified.” The Doctor assures her.  
  
“We'll see how the students respond to you..” She says, fixing the glasses perched on her beak-like nose. “Consider yourself in limbo, Mr. Smith.”  
  
He opens his mouth to tell her Limbo is a rubbish planet – with barely anything to do – but he quickly shuts his jaw and smiles warmly at the bird woman.   
  
The Doctor flops down onto his bed, the mattress absorbing his weight and the pillow muffling his groan. He's so bored and he can't change history and there's nothing weird going on. So dull! Even his work is getting dull. He teaches at the university and sure, it's great because other professors wear bow ties! He wants Amy here. He wants to tell her, “Look, Pond! Look at all these brilliant men and their cool ties!”   
  
But bloody hell, he misses her.   
  
Chin up, Doctor, it's only been a month!  
  
  
“That's it, you weird bloke, I'm taking you to the pub!” Danny says one night when the Doctor comes back to the flat from his visit to the park. The Doctor grins warmly at his invite but he declines.  
  
“I'm not too fond of drinking!”  
  
“Then I'm going to get you a girl!” Danny exclaims, clapping him on the shoulder, “Or a guy. Whatever tickles your fancy.”  
  
The Doctor shakes his head quickly, “Really, Danny! I appreciate the offer but I--”  
  
“It's not an offer, you dunce.” His face grave, “It's an order!” His Irish accent bleeds through the posh English one that he's adopted since living in London. The Doctor fidgets at the memory of Amy's voice – how it would get progressively Scottish in the middle of a sentence.   
  
-X-  
  
“What did you say your name was?” Danny asks the redhead that the Doctor has glanced at twice (and that's a record for the bow tie wearing freak). He's gotten worried about his new flatmate. The man runs out of the flat when a plane passes over head and when he comes back he always has the same excuse; “I thought I heard something else.” And Danny sees the skinny man's silhouette across the street in the park one too many times.   
  
Danny wouldn't say he was close to him, this Doctor with his strange ramblings and coming and goings at odd times of the day and night. If anyone asked a month and a half ago, Danny would have said the bloke was mad or on drugs or both.   
  
Now, he just thinks he's lonely and sad.   
  
“Evelyn.”   
  
“Brilliant. Listen, Evelyn, I'd like you to talk to my friend for me. He's from outta town and I think he needs some female company.” Danny jerks a thumb in the Doctor's direction. Evelyn smiles slowly.  
  
“He's pretty cute.”  
  
“A real gentlemen no less. Teaches at the University. I'm not asking you to shag him, just laugh at his jokes and keep him smiling.”  
  
“Easy enough.” Evelyn shrugs and saunters over to the Doctor.   
  
The Doctor is fascinated by her hair but, her eyes are blue, not like Amy's at all. And she's shorter than Amy. And she can't hold her liquor like Amy can (not that he exactly knows if Amy can hold her liquor but he assumes as such since she's Scottish). And her nails are chipped and bitten – not manicured and painted with care like Amy's.   
  
Still, he calls her a cab home and hugs her goodbye. Danny asks later that evening if he got her number, to which the Doctor replies; “I wouldn't have a phone to call her.”   
  
-X-  
  
“Amy...” He taps the ear-piece communicator, the static making his ear drums ache, “Amy – Pond – Amelia – I have no idea if you can hear me.” He takes the ear piece out and sonics it. The static stops for half a moment and his breath catches, hoping, he'll hear something anything to tell him that she's okay, that the TARDIS is okay, that she's not trapped in a black hole or burning in a supernova.  
  
-X-  
  
By the sixth month mark, the Doctor is sure he'll go insane at this rate.   
  
Six whole months in a linear time line.  
  
He needs to stay here because what if the TARDIS materializes (as she should) in the park and he's not there? He drops his job at the university and Danny no longer questions where the three-month in advance rent comes from.   
  
But, he does see Evelyn again. Her cheeks are a rosy pink from the coming winter, her fire-red-Amy-like hair is hidden under a woolen cap and she finds him in the park. “Danny told me you like to hang out here.” She says, sitting beside him on a bench.  
  
“It's quiet.” The Doctor says with a small smile.  
  
“He says you're waiting for someone.”  
  
The Doctor just nods, easily able to identify that twisting in his gut when he thinks of Amy. A twist in his gut and a burning in his chest.   
  
“I have a few minutes before my shift at the shop – mind if I wait with you?”  
  
-X-  
  
'My bed is too small' He thinks as he rolls onto his back, Evelyn straddling his waist.   
  
“How long have...” She gasps, unable to finish her sentence for a long moment, “You been waiting?”  
  
“Months.” He grumbles, the bed squeaking softly beneath them, “Eight Months.” He clarifies. He comes gasping Amy's name and Evelyn gives him a sad smile behind a curtain of damp red hair.  
  
-X-  
  
The Doctor tries to grow a beard. Out of boredom, naturally, and because he figures its an easy thing to track time. He's taken out the clock in his bedroom and Danny found it in the freezer.   
  
“What's this doing here?”  
  
“An experiment.” The Doctor answers vaguely, looking at his scruff in the hallway mirror.  
  
“You can't stop time, mate.”   
  
He shaves the beard on the eleventh month of his linear time line boring dull life.  
  
-X-  
  
“You going to the New Year's Party at the pub?” Danny asks, pulling on his coat and wrapping a green colored scarf around his thin neck.   
  
“Nah, I'll stay in. I've got fish fingers in the oven.”   
  
“Alright, you are welcome to come by...I'll buy you a pint.” Danny offers before he leaves, the door clicking shut softly behind him.   
  
'Vroowwpp....Vrowwwpp'  
  
The Doctor jolts from the sofa and pulls back the blinds on the kitchen window, his arm getting tangled in the plastic strips and cord, but he sees her. His TARDIS. His ship. His Amy! The Doctor scrambles out of the mess he's made, leaving the white blinds crooked and in disarray as he runs out the flat.  
  
The light snow on the ground crunches beneath his boots.  
  
It's not as cold as he expected but the weather is the last thing on his mind.  
  
“Amy!”  
  
“Doctor!”  
  
He practically tackles her when he hugs her, her back shoved up against the TARDIS, “Amy...” He repeats but much softer this time.   
  
“What's up with you? I was only gone like...five minutes.”  
  
“Not for me.” He mutters, lips close to her ear and making her shiver.  
  
“How long?”   
  
“A year. Exactly.” The Doctor suddenly feels all the pent up frustration, being trapped and alone like this, not having his ship, not having Amy, and having to wait in the same damn city for a whole 365 days! He cups her face with one hand and crushes their lips together, tongue dipping in and plundering for all its worth, sucking her lower lip. Their combined breath comes out in short puffs in the frosty air. He leans his forehead against hers, a warm relief flooding through his veins – she's here. Amy and the TARDIS, all he needs, all he'll ever need.   
  
“Only one year?” She grins, “I waited muuuch longer than that.”   
  
The Doctor kisses her again, hands pushing up her shirt and to squeeze her breasts, and Amy looses the rest of her thought. His hands are surprisingly warm but she suspects it's a 'Time Lord thing'. He blindly kisses down her neck, sucking greedily, leaving hot, wet red marks against her pale skin.   
  
“So,” She grabs him by the back of the head, fingers curling into his hair, so their eyes can meet as she finishes this sentence. “Now you know how it feels.” Her grin is smug and he finds that it turns him on all the more.  
  
They keep most of their clothes on. One, for modesty's sake. Two, it's getting colder outside. Three, she'll have him completely undressed by the time their in the TARDIS. She knows that for sure. He pushes her knickers aside with one finger and slips the same digit inside of her, “Oh Amy.” He rasps into her ear and she bucks her hips against his touch.  
  
“Doctor...don't you dare...keep me waiting on this.” She reaches down and palms the bulge on the front of his trousers. He practically yelps.  
  
She keeps her grip steady on the Doctor's shoulders as he pushes her up, legs loosely around his waist, and his trousers unbuckled. The Doctor slides into her in one smooth motion and she slams her skull on the side of the time machine. “Fuck.”   
  
Nothing else is said for a long while – besides the occasional mutterings of each others names. Amy helps him push her jumper up and god bless bras that unclasp in the front. His hot mouth envelops one of her nipples, tongue swirling and suckling before moving to the other breast. His thrusts were frantic, full of want, and Amy didn't know how she was managing this long.   
  
Her body felt like it was on fire. Not even the cold winter of London surrounding them could touch her. She was like a burning star.   
  
The Doctor groans her name, a warm puff of breath against her skin, touching the wet spots from where his mouth had been and sending a tiny chill down her spine. “Doctor!” Amy screams, clenching around him, muscles tightening and nerves bursting.   
  
Her whole body aches – but it's a good kind of ache.   
  
The Doctor lowers her to the ground, they're both panting and wearing silly grins on their faces. He tucks himself back into his trousers, buckling them and fixing his shirt and jacket.   
  
“Doctor – inside now – we have a whole 365 days we need to make up.” She says with a wink.  
  
The Doctor meets her wink with one of his own; “Not to mention the 5113 days that you waited.”  
  
Yeah, they had a lot of missed moments to catch up on.


	3. a woman's touch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> paring: hinted Amy/Eleven  
> (Takes place during "Day of the Moon")   
> summary: Amy helps the Doctor get rid of his awful beard.

“Where'd the Doctor disappear to?” Amy asks, seeing half the crew standing in the console room. River is flying the TARDIS and Canton is sitting in the jumper seat, watching her, while Rory is leaning against the railings looking relaxed despite the hell they all just went through.  
  
“He went to shave off that animal using his chin as a nest.” River says with a small smirk.   
  
Amy has a small smile as she takes the steps two at a time.  
  
The TARDIS helps her out and leads her right to the Doctor. She finds him in a bathroom with oblong mirrors and faucets that are a bright purple. He's leaning against the counter with his hip and examining his face covered in lather. His suspenders are pushed off his shoulders and his sleeves are rolled up.  
  
“You're holding it upside down.”  
  
“Eh?” He blinks at her.  
  
Amy laughs, more happy to see him than anything else, “The razor. You'll cut yourself if you hold it like that.” She strides on over and takes it from him, flipping it around and placing it back into his hand.   
  
“Ah.” He looks at the razor and then at her, “Thanks.” He looks at the razor again, his eyes unsure, and Amy bites her lower lip before smiling.  
  
“Ever done this before?”  
  
“...well yeah...uh. Maybe.”   
  
Amy sighs and snatches the razor from him, “Scoot.” She orders and he takes a small step back. Amy hops up on the counter. “For the sake of saving the universe and looking good while doing it. I'll do this.”   
  
The Doctor's lips quirk into a small grin. “Pond, you're marvelous.”   
  
He stands in between her legs as she sits up on the counter, her thighs brushing against his, her knees touching his hips, and the Doctor clasps his hands behind his back and keeps his spine straight.   
  
Amy starts with his left cheek, the razor sliding down slowly, and the Doctor's eyes flutter close. She twists around and washes out the razor in the sink before going back, her finger tips lightly guiding him when she wants him to tilt or turn his head.  
  
Amy feels a twist in her stomach. It's extremely intimate—the Doctor probably doesn't realize that.  
  
She gets to his throat, to shave underneath his chin and she stops with the razor hovering there.   
  
“Trust me?” She asks and the Doctor peeks one eye open.  
  
“Fish fingers and custard.” He responds.  
  
The razor goes along his throat and under his chin getting rid of the awful scruff there. Scruffy Doctor isn't exactly 'save the world' material. Amy hits the razor against the side of the sink, getting rid of the extra lather, and continues with her little project.   
  
She's careful, with one hand on the Doctor's shoulder, and the other moving steadily along his skin. The only noise is the sound of running water, the quiet sound of the blade running along his skin, and their combined breathing.   
  
“There.” Amy breathes out, admiring her work, and the Doctor reaches up to rub his face.   
  
He tilts his whole body to the side to look around her and see his reflection. “Not bad, Pond!”   
  
He steps back and reaches out his hands so she can hold them as she jumps down off the counter. Not that she needs to—but any excuse to touch her.   
  
“How do I look?” He gives her a toothy smile.  
  
“Like a madman with a box.”


	4. burning in between my lungs & he keeps his word

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> burning in between my lungs:  
> As she flinches away from him, it hurts - terribly - and he wishes she had slapped him instead. 
> 
> he keeps his word:  
> it's over
> 
> angst-fics

I am... _so sorry_..."  
  
And he means it. Deeply. In his bones and out through his pores -  _He means it._

 

The Doctor takes a step forward to hug her and she flinches away from him. The pain of that rejection burns like wildfire in the middle of his chest and spreading outwards. He's seen her upset. Comforted her - Vincent - Rory's death - when she was alone with the Angels - and she's never moved away from him.

 

He sets his jaw and doesn't say anything.

 

And the terrible darkness within him  _howls_ like an injured beast.  _You went all this way! You flew the Pandorica into the explosion just so she could have her family and her life back. You'll save her daughter. She's always trusted you and now look..._

He's not seeing his Magnificent, Impossible Amelia Pond anymore.

  
He's seeing a weak and fragile little bird with anger and contempt behind her eyes.

 

_She hates you._

_She hates you._

_Maybe not as much as you hate yourself--but--it's there. He wishes she had shouted at him, or smacked him, or done something to...make the physical pain real and not just inside his head._

He doesn't know what to do or say but the girl, Jenny, speaks up and breaks the silence. "It's not his fault." 

 

"I know."

 

The Doctor wants to grab her and crush her to him, but he knows when he isn't wanted and right now, Amy Pond doesn't want him. 

 

He thought - he wished - fooled himself into believing that Amelia Pond was special. That she knew him. Understood him. What an idiot he was to believe that.

 

He came back for her - twelve years - plus two - and he  _always_ came back for  _her._ Raised an Army to save her and her child. Called in a lot of old favors. He didn't ask for a thank you. He never did. He gave her his cot, a present, and he was happy to have given it to her. The Doctor swallows and walks away as Amy is comforted by her husband.

 

He likes Rory, he does, but their marriage and their child has defiantly put a gap between them. No, no, no, not a gap. A chasm. Something so far and wide not even a bridge could connect the two. The pain has subsided and been replaced by a damp, cold feeling of hurt. 

 

And when he hops into the TARDIS and hears Amy shout "Oi! Where are you going?" 

 

He locks the door with his sonic screwdriver - just in case - even though he's sure she won't follow.  _Oh right. Now you want me. Now you want to be involved and know what's happening and I just can't even look at you right now, Pond. Go. Have you happy family reunion. Live a long and happy life with Rory, that's what you want, you don't need your imaginary friend anymore._

 

The Girl Who Waited was now The Girl Who Grew Up. 

* * *

 

 _he keeps his word_

 

 

"Pack your things, Pond." The Doctor says not looking up from the console.

 

"What?"

 

"Pack your things!" He repeats with a smile, a smile that doesn't reach his eyes, "I'm taking you home."

 

"What?! Why?" She demands.

 

He says nothing else. Should he remind her how cruel she was to him? No. That would be childish. The Doctor can handle cruelty. Can he tell her that he can't keep traveling with her because it  _hurts_? No. That would be selfish. Can he say, 'well Pond, it's been fun. Everyone's got to leave sometime.' No. That would be insensitive. 

 

The Doctor bounds up the steps, "I'll fetch Rory then."

 

"He's sleeping." Amy's hand grabs his sleeve and he jerks away. She stares at him, lips parted, and eyes wide.  _Now you know how it feels, eh Pond?_

"Oh." The Doctor clasps his hands together, "Then you can go wake him." 

 

His eyes startle her. They're dark, cold -- he's not outwardly acting angry towards her but he is angry. The Doctor spins 'round and goes back to the console. Amy huffs and goes to get Rory, she'll tell Rory  and together they'll convince the Doctor that they're not ready to leave yet.

 

The two Ponds return, Rory still in his pajamas with a green night robe on. 

 

"Got everything then?" The Doctor asks even though he's aware of their lack of luggage.

 

"We're not going." Rory blinks, bleary eyed and nods at Amy's words.

 

"Yes, you are." The Doctor's voice is low, "Look how dangerous I am, Pond. How dangerous I am to people. The risks you take. You - you're married. It's time for you to take life off the TARDIS and have children and be happy." The TARDIS lands with that familiar wheezing sound.

 

"I don't want to go. Rory? Do you want to stay?"

 

"Yeah." Rory nods, ever faithful - ever loyal.

 

"It's not your choice." The Doctor stands with his hands clasped behind his back and he nods towards the doors. 

 

"Doctor!" 

 

"Amelia Pond! You are leaving - now - tonight." He scolds her like he's talking to a child. Rory takes Amy's arm and guides her out, giving a look at the Doctor as he follows them. 

 

The cold air is harsh on her bare skin. 

  
"Why? You never told us why, why are you making us leave?"

 

"I did tell you." The Doctor's voice is obnoxiously calm. 

 

His stomach twists as she steps forward to hug him and he flinches back again - "Goodbye, Ponds. We had a lot of fun."  He doesn't want to be bitter, but he can't help it, the darkness in his heart and mind has coiled around him - squeezing whatever compassion and warmth out of his system. 

 

"Doctor." Her voice is thick and he can see the glint of tears in her eyes from the light spilling out from the TARDIS. "Please, wait." 

 

The Doctor gives a small, sad smile, "Wait? Isn't that your forte, Pond?" 

 

"Doctor...I don't understand...did we do something wrong?" Rory asks, his hand still holding onto Amy. 

 

"No." The Doctor looks back at the TARDIS,  "It's just...too dangerous.  Live well. Do...domestic stuff. But, I promise, I won't come back--I won't endanger you any longer." The Doctor shrugs a bit. He claps Rory on the shoulder in a friendly, familiar way and he gives Amy a broken smile. The Doctor walks back into the TARDIS and he can hear Amy jiggling the door handle and shouting, slamming her hand against the door.

 

"Doctor! Doctor! Come back! Get your bowtie-wearing alien arse OUT HERE RIGHT NOW!" Amy shouts, alternating between slamming her palm on the door and her fist. "DOCTOR!" 

 

The TARDIS de-materializes with Amy still hitting it. 

 

He keeps his word.

 


	5. starry eyed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> shameless smut-fic   
> rating: m (duh)

  
"I'm 907, do you know what that means?"  
"It's been a while?"  
"Yea--no! No!"   
  
Amy took advantage of his confusion and kissed him again. She was pleased that he relaxed a little bit this time, his lips falling into natural rhythms with hers. 

"Oh, Pond. You, maddening creature, you." He muttered against her lips. He seemed to suddenly realize what he was doing and he jerked away.

"No no! Pond.  This can't work. This won't ever work. You're  _human_ " 

"So is River." She said, licking her lips for a moment, "And you've got a future with her, yeah?"

The Doctor opened his mouth struggling for words to try and explain that  _this_ can't happen. He shouldn't let it. ( _He wants it but that doesn't make it right_ ) 

 

"And all I want is one night, Doctor." Amy said, leveling her eyes with his. Amy smirked and moved away from him then, plopping onto her bed and leaning back, putting on what she hoped was her sexiest pose and raised eyebrow. The Doctor gripped the bar at the end of her bed and studied her carefully.

 

She could see his internal conflict dancing about in his eyes.

 

Desire versus Morals. Temptation versus Lust. The consequences (what consequences, anyways? As long as it stayed their little secret and the Doctor was rather good at keeping those.) This was her last night as a free woman. She didn't have a hen party, she had no girlfriends to do such a thing. Rory was at his stag, drinking, probably getting a lap dance...

He was having his fun.

She wanted to have hers.

 

 "Are you sure? I mean, absolutely sure, because...because...I can't go back - I can't...rewrite it, if it happens." The Doctor kept looking at her face and then to the floor. She was reminded of a young boy, nervous, and worried, and for the moment; The Doctor looked like a young man and not a wise, venerable alien. 

Amy reached for the hem of her red jumper and she pulls it over her head and chucks it at him.

 

He laughed as it hit his face, but the laugh quickly fades when he sees her in nothing more but her skirt, tights, muddy trainers (why is she wearing shoes? ) and a little black bra. The Doctor cleared his throat and slowly circles around the bed and sits beside her.

 

Amy sighed, sitting up, she places her hands on his shoulders and guides him towards her. Their lips meet again, this time, it's slow and soft. Tender.   
He's pleasantly surprised at how this feels; it's nice--but there is that part of him that is disgusted with himself for doing this, for embracing the moment and embracing  _her._  He's a Time Lord. He's 907 years old. He  _should be above_ this. His big brilliant mind should be able to block out  hormones. 

But, its not his fault that the first thing he woke up to were a pair of long, long legs attached to a very feisty redhead.  _You always did have a soft-spot for redheads, didn't you? All that fire, personality, just mad-mad energy sparking and combusting like a school science project._

 

The Doctor, hesitantly, opened his mouth up for her and she quickly took advantage. Her tongue dipping in and tasting him, her whole body shivering with the sensation; he tastes like starlight and eternity. 

 

Amy's kiss is ever-true to her character; it's a little frantic, like he'll just disappear if she stops for breath. And its warm. 

 

The Doctor's hand finally moved from his lap and he wrapped his fingers around Amy's arm, lightly, carefully, like he too is afraid she's going to disappear at any moment. He could kiss her for hours. Respiratory by-pass system and all that. Very useful. But, Amy, is not of the same biology--and she broke away for the spiteful need of air.  
 

Amy can feel that her cheeks are flushed and so far, neither of them have said a word;  _But that's because we don't need to._  
Sometimes, if you're lucky, you'll find a person in this great big-universe where words are completely unnecessary. Where your eyes and your actions tell them so much more. Where they can understand you with a small smile or just with a look.

 

 The Doctor's lips turned upward for a moment and then he kissed her forehead affectionately. The Doctor kicked off his boots and they landed with a thud on the floor. Amy followed his lead and unlaced her shoes before tossing them to her floor.   
"Okay..." The Doctor breathed out, his breath washing over the side of her face.   
"Okay..." She repeated and her hands went to work trying to untie his bow tie. She would rather like it if his clothes were off...you know...now. 

The Doctor nuzzled the side of her neck, laughing into her skin, "Having some trouble, Pond?" 

"How the hell do you get this off?" 

"We could always leave it on..." The Doctor suggested as his lips trailed up her neck and behind her ear. Amy titled her head back, lost, for a moment, in the feel of his lips leaving a trail of wet kisses on her skin. Her skin. His lips. She never dreamed this would actually happen. 

 

"No, we are not." She mumbled as she came back to her sense. The Doctor's lips left her neck and he sat up for a moment, his own hands untying the bow tie and the unbuttoning the first few buttons of his shirt. 

"Better, Miss Pond?" 

"Mmm." Amy leaned up and finished unbuttoning his top so she could push it off his shoulders. 

The Doctor's hands settled on her waist,  _Oh god, Amy, I never noticed...you have such soft skin. So pale, too._ He kissed her shoulder haphazardly. So, there they were, the two time travelers, kneeling on Amy's bed and completely  _lost_ in each other. 

 

The Doctor was positive that if a dalek fleet showed up, he'd finish kissing Amy before he gave them even a moment of his time. 

 

Amy's hands slipped around his back, her fingers dragging against his skin, feeling the muscles and tendons, the bones. She felt his ribcage and back up to his chest, feeling his heartbeats, the roundness of his shoulders, the dip of his lower back, the curve of his neck; she was committing all of it to memory.

 

The Doctor buried his face in Amy's hair, earning a giggle from his red haired companion, and he took a deep breath.  _You are so lovely, so magnificent, and I'm sorry I left you behind. I'm sorry I keep doing it. The angels, oh, Amelia, if I had lost you..._

 

He kissed her ear. His hands slowly, tormentingly slow, ghosted over the skin of her stomach and then around her back. Amy's bra joined the pile of clothing on the floor.

 

Amy groaned at the feeling of his skin, his body, touching hers. She kissed his collar bone and then peered up at him, the Doctor seemed lost in his thoughts, lost in her, as his hands mapped out her stomach and chest. He felt the weight of her gaze and without hesitation he kissed her again--differently than the last time. There was more urgency, more pressure, and Amy leaned back onto the bed with one hand tangled in his hair.

 

He was the first to break the kiss and he looked at her, really, really, looked at her. His eyes darkened, hair mussed, and lips parted. She wanted to kiss him again. Wanted to kiss him until her lungs burned with oxygen deprivation. Then she saw what he was trying to tell her, his hands resting on her thighs, and his body perfectly still.

 

_He's giving you a chance to run. To change your mind. Silly, Doctor. What makes you think I would stop now.  
_

Amy placed her hands over his and guided him forward, her skirt hiking up a few inches, and their eyes never wavering from one another. The Doctor gave her a quick, small smile before his hands traveled up the rest of the way and he peeled off her tights.

 

Amy's heart was thudding in her chest, pounding against her ribcage, and she was nervous and excited and  _ohgodDoctorkeepdoingthatwithyourmouth_. She kicked off her skirt, her mouth joining his again, and she brought his lower lip into her mouth and bit down softly. The Doctor moaned in response, his hands splaying across her back. He draws her to him, pressing their bodies impeccably close, as if they'll just melt together. 

 

Amy blindly searched for the zipper on his trousers because if this man-time lord-makes her wait one more bloody second she's going to burst. 

 

"Patience, Pond." He whispered into her ear. 

"I've had enough of  a lesson in patience, thank you very much." She grumbled and the Doctor kissed her neck, a silent apology, before he pulls away. She's greeted by the sight of his surprisingly purple briefs before those are tossed to the floor with her own knickers. 

 

The Doctor leaned his forehead against hers, one hand on her hip and the other cupping her face. Amy swallowed. The Doctor lowered his mouth, kissing the side of her neck, her collarbone, tiny kisses all over her chest, and then he drags that mouth back up and captures her lips, tongue exploring and teeth nipping and holy-hell Amelia Pond has never been kissed like  _this._

_If this is what madness feels like, oh, I do not want to be sane_

There is this moment before he enters her, where he takes her hand in his and squeezes and Amy thinks its the most tender, heart-breaking thing she's ever been a part of. The Doctor groaned, his forehead resting on her shoulder, because oh god, he can't take this back now and it's happening and he's not letting the guilt take over because there is this twisting, wonderful feeling in his gut. 

He doesn't want it to end.

 

Amy dug her fingernails into his scalp, holding onto a fistfull of his hair, and her other still squeezing his. She felt like if she didn't cling to something, cling to him, she'd float away in a sea of euphoria. He kissed her, drinking in her soft mewls, letting his instinct take over his judgement and just letting this happen and making it glorious, fantastic, so she'll never forget it. 

 

Amy rocked her hips, her mouth brushing against his from time to time when he's not kissing her. 

  
The Doctor keeps repeating her name and Amy's found that she rather likes the sound, the way, he says her name. His hand traveled down between their joined bodies and Amy's eyes squeezed shut. His breath is coming out in short and jagged breaths against her skin and Amy can't hold it together anymore; she bursts, comes undone at the seams, the world igniting with the intensity of a thousand burning suns.   
 

The Doctor muttered something in a language that Amy can't identify and maybe the TARDIS doesn't want to translate it. 

 

He rested his head in the crook of her neck, the salt-sting bothering his eyes, but he needed this; he needs this moment. Amy is feeling boneless, limp, content. Her nerve endings still shocked and sensitive. Her body tingling, heart racing, and her mind storing away the memory in some safe and secret  place.

 

The Doctor lifted his head and placed a chaste kiss to her lips.

 

He looked down at her fondly, a small smile on his face and Amy can't help but smile back. His hair is damp and the fringe is hanging in front of his eyes. There's a red mark on his neck from where she placed a love bite. One that she hopes can't be covered by his collar.   
 

Amy doesn't expect him to stay when he withdrew from her, she expects him to tell her to pick up her clothes and they have to get back in the TARDIS and do more life-saving! 

Much to her surprise; he does stay. Of course, he put back on his shirt, purple briefs and trousers.

 

He laid next to her, pulling the covers over her rapidly-cooling skin, and kissed her temple. 

"We don't have to...go save someone? Ship on fire? Distress signal? Cat stuck in a tree?" 

"Amy, I don't know if you realize it, but you've had an eventful day with barely any sleep. We've been gone five minutes, yes, but you're body needs to rest."

Now, that she's thinking about it, he's right; she tired. Both from that happy, sleepy, after-glow kind of way and the 'god I have been running for my life for hours today' kind of way. 

 

"Yeah..." Amy yawned despite her best efforts. "You gonna be here when I wake up?" She asked, pulling the covers to her chin and rolling over on her side so her body was facing him.

He raised his eyebrows at her. "Would you like me to be?" 

Amy blushed.

"Go to sleep." He grinned, not giving her a straight answer.

 

(Amy knows him well enough to know that he doesn't stay the whole night. But he  _is_ there when she opens her eyes, he's leaning against the TARDIS with a cup of tea in his hands, and he just says; "Okay, Pond. Now that you're all rested and sexually satisfied. Where do you want to go next?" )


	6. the bowtie looks better on her

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the three times Amy put on the Doctor's clothes.   
> paring: eleven/amy, hints of OT3  
> rating: pg

**1.**  
  
She holds the tattered blue shirt and curls her fingers into a fist. He's gone again. Left her. Saved the day, was mad and brilliant, brave, and  he made her trust him again.   
  
Amy brings the fabric to her face and inhales deeply. She won't cry...even if she feels the pressure building behind her eyes. She's not going to cry.   
  
At least he's real--well, she always knew that--but now everyone else had to believe it too.   
  
She can almost smell the fire where the parts of his shirt are singed. And if she keeps her eyes shut, it's almost like he's right next to her, and that's the most comfort she can get.   
  
Amy wears the shirt to bed every once in a while.   
  
Mostly it's when Aunt Sharon is out and she has the quiet house to herself.   
  
Sometimes, Amy thinks she can smell fish custard and other times she swears his scent is completely faded and now masked by her perfume.   
  
 **2.  
  
** Amy sighs and rests her cheek against his chest.   
  
"We've got to go, Pond. Can't spend all day lying in bed..."  
  
"We did more than just lie here, Doctor." She reminds him.  
  
He's quiet for a moment and then she feels his hand on the small of her back, "Hm."   
  
That's when Amy sees his tweed jacket on the floor, it's close to the door, the first thing she pushed off of him and it leads the trail of clothes to the bed. The Doctor easily lets her go when she makes a move to get up, he doesn't hold her, or mutter 'five more minutes' into her hair. Part of her likes that, likes that he isn't so clingy. Another part of her is worried he'll be willing to let her go too easily.  
  
The Doctor assumes she's leaving (why else would she be heading towards the door?).    
  
Amy picks up the jacket and slides it on, holding it closed with her hands, and she smiles at the Doctor. His reaction is worth the the fourteen years of waiting.  
  
He's staring at her, slack-jawed and wide-eyed, like he's never seen her before.  
  
The inner-lining of the jacket is soft and it holds his warm scent.   
  
"Pond..."  
  
Amy just quirks an eyebrow at him.  
  
"Come here for a moment, please."   
  
She's a  few inches away from the bed when he grabs her wrist and pulls her into him.   
  
 **3**.  
  
"Bowties are cool." He tells her, subconsciously adjusting the little red tie around his neck. "Always remember that."  
  
"Maybe on someone like Churchill, but on you...." She pauses like she's actually thinking about the matter, "Mmm no."  
  
He looks offended by her comment but he grins.  
  
"You certainly couldn't wear one, Pond! You'd look ridiculous." He says and then he's back to fiddling with something on the TARDIS. Amy crosses her arms, mutters something about 'ooh we'll see.' and marches off to the wardrobe.   
  
The Doctor gets a little worried when Amy hasn't returned. He paces around the console and then, wanting to go on an adventure, but not able to actually go without her. That's when he heads up the stairs to go and fetch his red-haired companion. He'll take her to planet made out of bowties! Then she will see just how cool they are!  
  
He finds her in the wardrobe, sitting crossed-legged in front of the mirror, with something in between her fingers.   
  
"Pond! There you are!"  
  
"Doctor, how do you even tie one of these?" She holds up a violet colored bowtie.   
  
"It's easy!" He says, but for the record, it's  _not_ easy. Not to her anyways. He gives up on trying to show her by demonstration with his bowtie and ends up tying the violet colored on around her collar.   
  
In Amy's opinion, it clashes terribly with her plaid shirt.  
  
In the Doctor's opinion,  _oh oh oh,_ "I guess the bowtie does look rather...nice...on you." He smiles boyishly, "Very cool."   
  
"Doctor! Amy! What the hell are you guys doing, playing dress up?"  
  
"Rory! Do you want a green bowtie..." Amy holds one up, "Or this classy black one?"   
  
The Doctor and Amy share a mad grin.   
  
Rory stares at them.   
  
  
He chooses the green one.


	7. if we kissed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> rating: T  
> heavily influenced by the song "if we kissed" by Fiona Apple.

_"_ _I can't even make sense of this;_  
you speak and I don't hear a word..."  


 

She can't help it. When the Doctor talks--when he explains some brilliant thing, or planet, or plan he had or person he met, she watches his lips. She watches his hands at they flail around his face, the TARDIS controls, and she can't ignore that quiver in her stomach when he licks his lips.

"So, they're celebrating then? This is a party we're going to?" Rory asks.

The Doctor scoffs, "Rory! Rory! This is Aroka 8! They don't just celebrate for the hell of it!" The Doctor beams, and he punches in the coordinates. "They throw the best parties!" The Doctor is talking in circles and that's only because he is very aware of Amy's eyes. He's hoping that the extravagant colors and music of Aroka 8 can divert her attention. He's 907, he's been around, and he can tell when a woman is thinking about  _that_. There's a certain a spark behind her eyes; it's making him rather nervous.

And his plan works...sort of.

__

"what would happen if we kissed?  
Would your tongue slip past my lips...?"  


  
Amy drapes the colorful flowers over his neck and laughs. The music is loud, thumping drums, and dancing bodies, and flowers being thrown, wine being consumed, and the Doctor realizes with a sudden chilling terror; he and Amy are alone. Well, not exactly alone...but where is Rory? 

Her hands grasp his lapels and she leans into him; but her lips graze across his cheek. Amy feels her heart pick up pace and she can hear the Doctor stammering softly over all this noise. "Amy? Amy, you are going to...this looks very bad, you know." He pushes at her shoulders but she notices that he isn't really  _trying_ to push her away.

"Just a bit of fun, Doctor. This is a party after all." Amy whispers and feels a sense of gratification when she sees the flush of his collar. Oh, she knows just how to get under his skin, doesn't she? Mr. Grumpy face.  Amy twirls away from him and the Doctor clears his throat.

Rory joins them (thank goodness; he thinks, but his hearts are thumping to a different melody). Rory is stumbling and didn't he tell them not to drink the wine here? Amy laughs and they support him back to the TARDIS.   
 

_"Would you run away, would you stay_  
Or would I melt into you..."

"He's got one hell of a hangover." Amy says, finding him in one of the random rooms of the ship. The Doctor looks at the ceiling,  _'Really? I thought I told you I didn't want to be bothered.'_ His ship 'hmmph's' at him and urges him to stop running away from things he wants.  _''She's married.'_ He reminds the old girl. ' _What do you mean it's 2011!? That..that...really? And I am not having this conversation with you.''_

__Amy is watching him, he's sitting on the floor, looking quite annoyed with the ceiling. She sits beside him and looks at the mess he's made on the floor. Paper, wires, bits of this and that--it looks like the TARDIS threw up on the floor.  
"So, he's not feeling to well? I thought that tonic I gave him would have helped..." The Doctor purses his lips.

It's entirely his fault. He's too expressive. Too alive. Uses his hands and his mouth way too much. Amy bites her lip, "He's resting now, though. The dizziness has stopped..." The Doctor swallows. She's doing this on purpose, drawing his eyes to her mouth. Amelia Pond is entirely too clever. Really, she is.

"That's...good. That's very, very good." The Doctor nods and moves his eyes back to his little project. He pretends to not notice Amy's creamy legs stretched out beside him with her toenails painted indigo. "I hope he feels better soon! All this waiting is rather dull."

"You're just not using your time efficiently." 

The Doctor stares at her; "Amy. I'm a time lord. I know how to spend my time...an--and..." Amy's lips are right there. He could just tilt his head, move a fraction of an inch, and he could claim her. Just a taste... _No no no! NO!_ The Doctor clears his throat and turns his head away. 

"So Pond, where to next then? How about somewhere in history? Haven't done that in a while...pyramids? Ancient Greece? Paris? Name it." The Doctor says, his hands fiddling with all the little do-dads on the floor. 

"I'll give it some thought." Amy says, her lips too, too close to his ear. Then she gets to her feet and leaves him. The Doctor runs his fingers through his hair... _it needs to stop, I need to make sure Rory is around all the time...I can't ...keep brushing her off like this._ _She's Amy Pond, she'll find a way to get what she wants._    
 

 

 

_"Mouth to mouth, lust to lust_  
Spontaneously combust."

Amy is wearing a sundress and moving through the tall grass and Rory is chasing after her with her sunhat in his hand. The Doctor doesn't say or do anything. He just watches with a bemused smile on his face. The sky is clear and bright, the sun is shining, Rory is feeling much better...

_Amy must've given up. She hasn't cornered me in the TARDIS or found ways to have us be alone._

__He smothers the small feeling of disappointment. The subtle hunger there; the darkness howling in the corners of his mind. The part of him that wishes it was him chasing Amy in the tall grass. Amy waves at the Doctor and he waves back.

"Rory, don't you think this planet is rather...uneventful?" Amy says placing the sunhat back on her head. Rory looks at her; adorably confused.   
"You like the running? The aliens of death?"

Amy doesn't try to explain it. But, she does get her wish. Seconds later the storm comes and it rages across the planet, tossing her sunhat in the hair and drenching all three of them. The Doctor ushers them back into the TARDIS and he feels that burning, sickening sensation in his stomach along with the heat behind his collar when he realizes that--Amy Pond shouldn't, really shouldn't. have worn a white dress. 

"I'll find some towels!" The Doctor announces, his voice sounding a bit too high-pitched.

It's not Amy he's trying to stop anymore, the Doctor has stumbled into a battle with himself.  
 __  


__  
"Forbidden fruit  
Ring on my finger..."

 

He takes them to ancient Greece. He tells them about greek mythology, how they used the stars to tell their stories, and he is so, so, so very aware of Amy's arm beside his. He is even more aware of how soft her skin is when he takes her hand and pulls her along. They enter the temple of Aphrodite and the Doctor and Rory get kicked out because they're...well...males and it's just not allowed.  
Amy looks at the statue and wonders if Greek gods and goddesses ever had to choose between two men? 

The Doctor looks at Amy, admiring her in the soft light; she could have been a goddess.

Rory watches them both and he frowns slightly. But, Amy takes his hand and she takes the Doctor's hand; "Alright boys! This sight seeing was fun, but I'm hungry. Do you know of any planets made of food, Doctor?" She smiles brightly at him and the Doctor pulls his hand away to gesticulate in front of him. 

"I know every planet, every star, Pond! You'll have to be a bit more specific!" 

He tries to ignore the pout she gives him. He's becoming very bad at ignoring the little things that she does. The way she fiddles with her wedding ring, how she finds ways to lean into him or whisper, how she slowly smiles when she's got something figured out, the way she hums while she's reading, or even how she ties her hair back when she paints her nails. 

 

_  
"You're such a moral, moral man  
You throw it away, no question  
Will I pretend I'm innocent?"_ __  


  
He pins her against the console. His hands framing her face and he kisses her fiercely. Amy feels all the coiled up frustration suddenly unwind and she wraps one arm around his neck. He's not going anywhere. She's not going anywhere. This is  _so wrong_ , because really; Rory is in their bedroom, sleeping soundly, and here she is. She slips her tongue past the Doctor's lips and he opens up for her. 

Amy doesn't even know  _how_ it happened. She was bothering him about how she wants to fly the TARDIS and he naturally said no. Then they were just talking, teasing another another, and Amy decided to take a little risk. She approached the Doctor from behind and whispered to the back of his neck, "Really, Doctor? Not even gonna let me try?"

She expected him to get flustered and run away; but this time he didn't. 

One of  the knobs are digging into her lower back and she squirms, causing the Doctor to make a strangled noise in his throat. "Sweet, beautiful, Amelia Pond." He mutters, kissing her neck, "Brilliant, wonderful, mad..." Amy's eyes flutter shut and she sighs right before he kisses her again. There is no excuse for what they are doing...

He just won't let it go any farther than this...

just a kiss, just something to break down the tension, something to keep Amy's (and his own) desires quenched. 

"Doctor..." Amy breathes right next to his ear. In that moment, the Doctor realizes; everything has changed.


	8. complete madness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> part of my alphabet fic that was removed  
> rating: m  
> amy gives the TARDIS a fresh new paint-job

“Oi, Doctor? Do you like the color?”

The Doctor doesn't turn from what he's doing. “What? Of course! It's a fantastic color!” Amy dips her hand into the bucket and flings a glob of paint the Doctor. He doesn't move for a second which Amy uses to her advantage by cheekily saying, “The color looks good on you, Doctor.” The paint has landed on his collar of his shirt and it's splattered a bit on the side of his face and it's creeping down his neck.

“Really? I always thought green was more my color.” He says, his brush falling to the grass and both his hands are in the bucket a second after. Amy runs away, laughing madly and the paint can is knocked over as the Doctor bolts after her.

The TARDIS hums with amusement.

Amy  _may_  have let the Doctor catch her. They've toppled over each other in a pile of limbs, wet paint, and warm grass. The Doctor doesn't even realize what he's doing as he covers Amy in hand prints and streaks of blue. He was sure that his first intention was just to get her back...

Her back is covered in blue splotches, her bare legs, there's a streak of drying paint on her cheek. But, they can't stop laughing. The Doctor has his forehead on her shoulder; he's leaning over her, his elbows resting in the grass and keeping himself upright.

Amy is the first to slowly quiet down and she lazily pokes his cheek with her paint-coated finger. The Doctor turns his head to look at her and he quiets down. A soft chuckle escapes her lips but, that's for a whole other reason; the Doctor is a combustible force and she's the spark that ignites it. Her arms curl around his neck as his lips nuzzle against her throat.

His hands, still sticky from the paint, but not as wet travel along her sides. The Doctor should be saving planets, he should be traveling, not rolling around in the grass with Amelia Pond. Amy kisses him, teeth giving a light tug to his lower lip—and all thoughts of  _'what he should be doing'_  suddenly escape his mind.

Amy throws her shirt over her head and grins wickedly. The Doctor has seen her naked before, but it doesn't make her any less breathtaking. There are still spots of paint on her skin and it makes her look almost...warrior-esque in the way she leans back in the grass like that.

Their lips collide in that hurrying-Iwantyou-kind of way. Her mouth moves to his throat and she slips her tongue between the fabric of shirt and bowtie. The Doctor shudders at the sensation, “I've always wanted to do this.” She remarks as she pulls at the bowtie with her teeth, slipping her tongue behind it again and tugging. The scrap of fabric slips away from his neck and Amy leans back, undone bowtie between her teeth. She raises an eyebrow at the Doctor, his whole face flushed, he swallows—at a loss for words.

Then it's all urgency again. She doesn't know why they rush this, but she doesn't really want to stop it. She likes the feeling of the Doctor's hands running along her skin, likes the way she pushes his shirt halfway off his body just to feel him, likes the way their mouths meet and communicate all the words they'll probably never say. Her hands are very-close to tearing off his clothes. She feels the brush of denim as her skirt is finally out-of-the-way. The Doctor's hand cups her breast and all he can think is;  _Amy Pond, sweet, wonderful, tragic, magnificent Amy Pond._

Amy rolls her hips and that seems to be all the encouragement the Doctor needs because he's the one hurrying to unzip his trousers. Amy lets out a long, shuddering sigh as he slips inside her and she places a small kiss to his collarbone. It's madness, you know. Complete and total bonkers. The Doctor kisses her temple, her wild ginger hair tickling the side of his face. “Oh, Amy...” he said as he began to move, and Amy just responded by twining her fingers through that floppy-ridiculous hair of his. Then, it was quiet, with the exception of the two time travelers and the occasional bird cawing in the distance. Amy could check off; shagging the Doctor in the grass off her list. Not that she had list of places to shag the Doctor...okay, maybe she did.

The Doctor groaned into the skin of her shoulder as she came, his arms wrapping steadily around her and burying his face into the side of her neck. Amy felt boneless, limp, and she was quite content with not moving. She could feel his erratic, double heartbeat against the hand that's curled around his neck.

He moved his head and met her eyes, “Hi.”

Of all the things to say after sex. Amy just rolled her eyes and bumped her nose against his. He smiled so brightly that it warmed her to her toes. His fingers ran through her hair and Amy saw little blades of grass tumble from her red waves and get caught by the wind.

“Back to the TARDIS, then?”

Amy grinned, “I bet she's missing us. Buut...” Amy looks at the Doctor from beneath her eyelashes, she smiles coyly and drapes her arms over his shoulders. “Fifteen more minutes?” She kisses the corner of his mouth as it quirks into a smile.

Complete, total, and absolute madness.


	9. the doctor walks away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> rating: pg  
> shameless angst one-shot

Amy is standing on a stair of the TARDIS, just so she is a few inches taller than him. He feels the weight of her hands as they rest near his neck (too close, too close) and then she slides them along that curve where shoulder meets neck and her hands are in a safe zone (just how safe is life with Amelia Pond anyways? ). The Doctor bows his head ever-so slightly.

She could have cried. Crying companions he's seen, dealt with, hugged, consoled. She could have been angry—he's seen that too. No. Amy Pond is and will always be the girl who doesn't/didn't/will never make sense. The Doctor's hands slide into his pockets to stop himself from  _touching_ because that's all he wants to do. He wants to curl his arms around her waist and at this angle, his lips could touch her throat if she just tilted her head back a fraction of an inch. He could make her promises, he could show her the galaxy, they could travel until they collapse into a heap of limbs. He could nuzzle into that mess of gorgeous red hair and twine his fingers around it. He doesn't. He won't. He  _can't_.

It's Amy's Choice to leave the TARDIS. (He doesn't ask her why, he doesn't beg, he doesn't grab Rory's shoulders and yell at him to talk sense into her. He doesn't kick the console. Or lock himself in his room. He just accepts it...or pretends to.)

He feels her lips press against his forehead. The Doctor's eyes shut and he knows she's lingering. It's always been him with the forehead kisses and it feels strange (but right) to be on the receiving end. This is their last moment together. The Doctor knows Amy could have kissed him and he would have kissed her back...would have...could have...should have...still wants to. Her lips pull away and a whisper of her breath tickles his hairline. Amy, Amy, Amy...

He's inhaled her. She's in his bloodstream. His senses are overwhelmed with Amelia Pond. The scent, the sound of her breathing, the heat from her palms (somehow seeping through the tweed jacket), and he does what he's always done best.

The Doctor walks away.

His hands are trembling in his pockets as steps out of the TARDIS and into Amy's backyard. Rory notices something fragile about the Doctor's smile, but he doesn't say anything, he just sets down Amy's suitcase.

“Got everything, then?” The Doctor asks and Rory nods. The smile he returns is brittle and the Doctor would be lying if he said he didn't see tears in Rory's eyes. Amy joins them outside, her smile is the weakest of them all.

Look at them, pretending to be strong, invincible to their feelings...

“Well, I better be off! Planets to save. No time for tea!” He sounds off, even to himself, forced and foreign and when the hell did it get this hard to say goodbye? The Doctor gives a final grin before doing a half-twirl back into the TARDIS. He shuts the door, presses the palms of his hands to his eyes, and pushes back those salty betrayers. He knows, as the TARDIS begins to dematerialize, that they are watching him go.

The Doctor clutches the console, just sending the TARDIS into the time vortex so he can decide where to go next—he looks up and sees Amy's red scarf dangling from the railing.

The Doctor bows his head.

If only he wasn't such a coward.

 


	10. another chance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> rating: T, nothing explicit   
> set after the end of series 5 - what if amy caught up to the doctor before river?

The Doctor walked towards his TARDIS, parked where it always was at Amy's house, and a safe distance away from the new shed.

“Oi! Where do you think you're sneaking off to?” He turned to see the bride hurrying towards him. She looked angelic. Amy had taken off her brides' veil at some point during the evening, even though she didn't remember why.

“Oh just...TARDIS...tuning up.” He answered lamely. The Doctor's real plan was to leave, leave Amy and let her enjoy her wedding night.

“But, we haven't even had a snog in the shrubbery yet!” Her smile told him she was kidding, her eyes told a different story.  
  
The Doctor wagged a finger in her face, “Amy, it's your wedding night. Please try to behave.” He was getting all too comfortable at chastising her. They laughed then, an enjoyable laugh that only those who shared so much could hold. Amy couldn't help it—she hugged him, throwing her arms around his shoulders and feeling the soft fabric of his tuxedo jacket. So very different from the scratchy texture of his usual tweed jacket.

“You should have come sooner...” Amy said as their embrace ended.

   
“Yes, well...” The Doctor looked back at the TARDIS and then to Amy. He didn't want to have this conversation. He wanted to go into the TARDIS and work on her a little bit, tune things, fiddle, mess with wires, and most of all clear his head.

“Are you always late to these sorts of events?” She crossed her arms. Her and the Doctor looked more like a wedding couple, with that silly hat and ridiculous bowtie and at the same time...it was so charming. So very  _her_ Doctor.

“Hm? Weddings?...” The Doctor paused, “No...well, maybe.” He gave Amy a sheepish, maybe even embarrassed smile, that set her heart to the stars.

“I wish I had remembered sooner...”

“You did well, Amy, I'm back.” He grinned and she didn't match his smile—which worried him. What in the world was she getting on about?

“You always come back.”

“Yes, I do.” He nodded a little bit.

“It's too late...” Oh, her eyes were terribly sad. “W-what are you talking about?” The Doctor frowned with confusion. Too late? He was too late? Okay, yeah, he was a little late! He thought they got past that part.

“If I had remembered sooner, if I remembered you...my raggedy Doctor...then I wouldn't have--”  _married Rory._  The Doctor took a quick step forward, staring down at her, and cutting off the rest of her sentence.

“Don't.”

“Don't what?” She challenged, something...something...anger? Flashing in her eyes.

“Don't finish that sentence.”

“Why?” She stared up at him, not intimidated and certainly not backing down... “Because you know it's true...” Her voice was slightly softer then. The Time Lord and his red haired companion fell silent. Amy and the Doctor had their similarities; they both ran. She ran on the night before her wedding and now she was going to run the night  _after_ her wedding. Oh yes, he and the girl who waited had all too much in common. Got along far too well. He had tried to distract her with Rory, tried to show her, told a seven year old sleeping Amelia to  _love_ Rory but it was still there—her affection for him. Him, the Doctor, the Oncoming Storm, the madman with a magical blue box.

“I want to run...” Her voice had gained its strength back.

“Absolutely not!” The Doctor shook his head, “No, no, no, no, no.” He waved his hands, moving away from Amy, pacing around the garden.

“But---”

“No!” He stopped suddenly, his back to Amy, “You have a life here now...” Okay, okay, she had found him out, or maybe he had given himself away. Yes, he was leaving. He wasn't coming back. He was going to attend the wedding and then slip off when nobody was watching. Slip into the TARDIS, clear his head, and then dematerialize before anyone was the wiser.

“You're married to Rory.” The Doctor ran a hand through his hair, frustrated ; he yelled, “You're going to have a life with Rory!”

“I'm not ready!” She shouted back. Amy picked up her dress and stormed over to the Doctor, but he just moved again, moving, always moving, always  _running_  and she couldn't do the same?! What kind of twisted alien logic was that?

He spun around on his heel, now facing Amy but still a good foot away from her, and his eyes were conflicted. She could see that from here. He loved her company, having Amy Pond with him was a thrilling adventure. He wanted to take her into the TARDIS and never look back. Travel the stars, planets, and show her every beautiful sky and sea.

The Doctor opened his mouth and quickly shut it, collecting his emotions about him, “You love Rory.” He said, very very calmly.

“I love you!” Her eyes widened at the words that just flew right out of her mouth. Amy covered her lips with her hand, the clear shock on her face.

 _Another chance...Rose said those same words to you and you never had the chance to say them back, now she's gone. Amy..._ The Doctor sighed, leaning against the back of the TARDIS, running his hand along the length of his face. Amy carefully and slowly stood beside him, her bare shoulder brushing against him. The silence fell over them again.

The stars winking above them, the soft breeze, and their combined breathing...it was all so very fairytale.

Amy had imagined this moment, the declaration of love to her raggedy Doctor, but this...was terrifying and real and scary and...she wasn't ready for this either.  _So, why do I feel so happy now that I've said it?_

“Amy...” She closed her eyes, here it comes, the rejection...the  _“I am leaving and you are staying here and that is final. I am nine-hundred and seven years old...I am a Time Lord...”_ Then he would list all the reasons why this was wrong and she couldn't argue because he would be right. It was  **wrong** for her to love him when she had only just married Rory.

The Doctor stood in front of Amy gently taking her face in his hands. “Amy...” His lips pressed against the crown of her head. A tender, chaste kiss that Amy experienced before. The moments when she thought he was going to kiss her, but only kissed her forehead, and she would feel just a pang of disappointment.

“Mad, impossible, Amy Pond.” He kissed the top of her head, kissing her hair. He took a deep breath, breathing in the scent of her shampoo and whatever else she had used. It smelled lovely—even if he didn't like the taste of apples, the smell of apples was just fine.

Was this his goodbye?

He kissed her forehead, right in between her eyebrows and Amy opened her eyes—confusion clearly on her face. “What are you...” He kissed her nose.

Amy couldn't help it, she giggled, before trying asking again.

“It's not obvious?” He sounded both smug and amused.

“Well no—not really, I mean...I just said something, something big and you--” Amy stopped speaking, not because she didn't want to finish her point, but her lips were suddenly engaged in a different activity. Her hands set on his shoulders and she kissed him back, her heart and mind were in the stars.

She was floating above the TARDIS with his hand on her ankle. She was hugging him tightly on the Starship UK. He was nuzzling her hair as she stared down an angel, promising never to leave. He was holding onto her hand, desperation and fear on his face as the earth tried to swallow her up. She was pinning him against the TARDIS. He was smirking at her as she got the keys back from Winston Churchill. He was holding her hands and kissing her forehead as she sat alone in the dark. Every memory of her time, good or bad, with the Doctor floated into her skull and then faded.

This kiss made her dizzy.

Amy's grip on his shoulders tightened, her exposed skin pressed against the cool wood of the TARDIS, and one hand had moved from her face to rest on her lower back. He pulled her close and Amy's hand slipped into his chestnut, floppy hair and she gave a soft tug. Something that the Doctor liked very much. She had to admit that at nine-hundred and something years old—this man knew how to kiss. (Which was a very high compliment coming from a woman whose job it was to kiss people.)

Amy gave his lower lip a small nip and he jerked back, “You  _bit_ me!” He exclaimed, green eyes wide, hair tussled, and lips swollen. It was a good look for him in Amy's opinion.

“Aw, come on. It was only a wee-little bite.” Amy smiled, feeling wonderful and guilty at the same time. “I didn't even bite you that hard.” Amy didn't want there to be too much of a space between kissing and talking. She knew the Doctor, he would start to think and think too much and then he would run and leave her behind—she couldn't let that happen.

Amy leaned forward and kissed him slowly, waiting for him to respond, “Amy” He muttered against her lips before moving his lips with hers. Amy decided then that he liked saying her name just as much as she liked hearing it. She pressed her hands against his chest, feeling the heartbeats, and letting his tongue slide into her mouth.

His hand tangled in her lovely ginger locks, his lips moved away from hers and Amy gave a singing sigh. He tilted her head back and kissed her neck. He liked her neck, smooth and pale, and almost always hidden by a scarf, making it all the more desirable to kiss.

Then, a wicked thought entered his head, and the Doctor...he cautiously bit her neck. Amy made a sound halfway between a yelp and a moan. His breath danced over her skin and she  _felt_  rather than heard him give a breathy chuckle.

Amy stared incredulously at him when he pulled away, “You  _bit_ me!” Her words echoing his only moments ago.

He grinned, his nose brushing against hers, “Yes. I did.”

“You can't do that! You have  _space teeth!_ ” The two laughed, and the Doctor could have sworn he heard the TARDIS give a soft sound of approval. The Doctor mentally rolled his eyes,  _Oh, you would. Matchmaking time machine space ship..._

The Doctor licked his lips subconsciously, “We shouldn't...this was very...was a very, very big mistake.”

Amy felt her heart give a twist, he was right—this was a mistake. A beautiful mistake. A mistake she wanted to happen over and over again. She smoothed his hair with her hands and they took a small step away from one another.

“Are...” Amy put on a smile, “We still traveling together?”

“I wouldn't have it any other way, come along, Pond!” She marveled at how smoothly they went back into the way it was—the way it was supposed to be. She expected distance, a wall, but instead...she got her Doctor; with that same ridiculous bowtie.

She followed him into the TARDIS, “Amy!”

“There you are!” Like  _he_ was the one who snuck out of the party, she held the door as Rory caught up to them. The guilt resurfaced, the fact that just a minute ago—maybe two, she was tangled up in the Doctor.

“Amy? You alright?” Rory's hand on her shoulder and the Doctor's concerned gaze—concerned and equally guilty but far more guarded. Guilty. She betrayed him, but she had done that before! She kissed the Doctor before her wedding!  _Maybe I was right about not being the marrying-kind..._

“Yeah, fine!”  _but, I worked as a kissogram and that never bothered Rory._

_It was just a kiss...just a silly, (wonderful,magical,thrilling, delightful) spur of the moment kiss...we will (we have to) put it behind us and move forward._

“Rory, I bet she's just...”  _don't say hormonal._  “well, you know—weddings. Take a lot out of you...” The Doctor said from his spot at the console.  _Shh, ol' girl._ The Doctor looked at the center of the TARDIS, she was upset, his magical blue box was sad or something close to it.  _Amy is married to Rory. What happened out there will not happen again. Come on, let's go someplace wonderful and—_ The phone began to ring.

“You sure you're alright?”

“Yeah! I think the Doctor's right...Just tired...long day...” Amy was lying through her teeth. She had too many emotions right now to just settle on one. Tired seemed the safe route to go. She couldn't tell her now-husband,  _'I'm flustered, I'm guilty, I'm confused, I feel loved and brilliant and at the same time absolutely terrible because Rory, you deserve someone who wants a house in upper Leadsworth. Who wants to get old and have children and...'_

“I've got some work to do on the TARDIS before we head out.” The Doctor said hanging up the phone. Rory smiled a little at the Doctor, silently thanking him, Amy wouldn't sleep if there was an adventure behind those doors. The Doctor gave a weak grin back,  _oh Rory, if only you knew—which you can't know. Ever. That would hurt you and hurt Amy and I won't ever ever ever let that happen. The boy who waited and the girl who waited, perfect together, and I'm just a madman with a box. I acted wrongly, acted on impulse, and I'm oh so very sorry._

“Right, yeah...sleep...” Amy looked at the Doctor, narrowing her eyes in what she assumed to be a threatening manner, “No running off and saving planets without us!”

The Doctor sighed, “Alright...alright...” he turned away from the newlyweds, “Gonna be boring, though.”

“I'll go get our things...” Rory gave Amy a quick peck before running out the door. Now that he and Amy were married, he didn't feel like he was competing with the Doctor anymore. It was a nice feeling.

The door swung shut, Amy and her Doctor just looked at one another.

“So...”

“So...” He repeated, looking back at the controls, but still feeling Amy's eyes on him.

“It...never happened, is that what we're doing?”

“Yes.” Her heart sank at the words she expected.

“Okay, yeah...fine...” Amy numbly nodded her head, the events of the day and her whirlwind of emotions had all complied together and now she really was tired. She moved out of habit to the Doctor's side, just to make sure he wasn't lying and entering any coordinates.

“Amy...” The Doctor couldn't resist, he needed her to know, even if nothing would change. Even if she stayed married to Rory, which he hoped she would, and even if a few months from now he never saw her again.  _Another chance. Another chance._

He took her face in his hands and Amy, for a brief moment, thought he was going to kiss her again. His fingers lightly pressing on her temples, “Close your eyes and open your mind...” She did just that. She felt the Doctor lean his forehead on hers, his breath tickling her lips, and she stood perfectly still.

_I love you..._

She heard the words as if he had spoken them.

Was he afraid to say it aloud? Or this was his way of saying it and keeping it safe? Yeah, probably. No one could hear them inside her mind. The words were reserved for her, only her, and Amy didn't know if the TARDIS could hear it.

_Amy...never forget that._

His hands left her face and she felt his presence move away from her.  _No, come back..._

The TARDIS door opened, along with the fumbling of some bags hitting the floor, but Amy Pond was frozen in place. “Ah, Rory! Let me help you with those.” The Doctor's footsteps on the stairs, bags moving, Rory saying thanks, the TARDIS humming, the boys heading upstairs with hers and Rory's things, their voices fading...

Amy finally opened her eyes, staring at the interior of the TARDIS, “I won't.” She looked down at her wedding dress, “Rory! Doctor! I think I'm going to need help getting out of this!” Amy said as she ran up the stairs, she heard the Doctor laugh;

“That's Rory's job then, not mine!”

“Oh, you're such a girl...when it comes to...girls.”

“Brilliant comeback there, Pond.”

“Oh shut up.”


	11. the doctor dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rating: PG  
> Pairing: Amy/Eleven (set after Amy's Choice)  
> He may not sleep often but when he does; he dreams of her. He didn't need the Dream Lord to tell him that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( this was my first ever amy/eleven fic lol)

The Doctor was underneath the console of the TARDIS, “Doctor!” he looked up to see the face of Amy above him, he just waved. “When are we leaving?”  
 

Always anxious to start another adventure.  
   
“Soon! Pond!” He bounded up the steps, fiddling with the controls. Sure and unsure on what he was pressing but it was all second nature so what did it matter anyway? Amy Pond was beside him, smiling, oh what a lovely smile she had. The Doctor couldn't help but return it. Her smile was infectious...contagious...if only her hair was the same way.  
   
“Doctor, it's...she's..gorgeous!” Amy exclaimed, Doctor right behind as they stepped out of the TARDIS.  
   
“Gallifrey...” She turned, understanding—maybe hearing, the sadness in his voice. He took her hand and they walked, silver-leafed trees and a burning orange sky. Just as he remembered it. They lay together, with her head on his chest, drinking in the sights and the warm red grass beneath their bodies.  
  
The Doctor ran his fingers through her hair, examining each strand, how it should have blended in with all the orange and red around them—but it didn't. Amy moved her head and her face hovered above the Doctors.  
  
He watched her lips move but no sound escaped them.

“Yeah, I know...” The Doctor replied, making her smile that brilliant smile. She pressed her forehead against his, closing her eyes, and the Doctor watched as her strands of red hair framed her face and became wonderful, ginger curtains, capturing the light of Gallifrey.

He closed his eyes, feeling Amy's lips on his, just a touch...nothing more. One hand still tangled up in her hair and the other resting on her hip. Amy pulled away and they shared a secret smile, “Amelia Pond...” The Doctor sighed, relishing the taste of her name on his tongue. “Where to next?”

“After this? No planet could compare.” Amy's voice was low, fading, as she settled back down. Her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeats and his hand moving through her hair again, never tugging or pulling, just soft...soft...lulling her to sleep.

When the Doctor opened his eyes again, he was alone, he wasn't on Gallifrey and there was no Amy Pond in his arms. He had fallen asleep in the Library,  _again_. The Doctor looked down, seeing that a blanket had been placed over him.

Along with a folded note on top of the book he was reading. The Doctor blinked, once, twice, and opened the folded paper. The script was wide, cursive, the letters nearly looping together elegantly.

 _'Where to next...?'_  
  
The Doctor slid the note into the book he was reading and hopped to his feet. “Good question!” He left the blanket and book on the small loveseat, leaving his Library (the pool had wandered off...again) and heading to the heart of the TARDIS.  
  
“Amy! Where's Rory?” The redhead from his dreams was standing by the console, her lips turning into a smile—a smile that made the Doctor quite weary of what was going to come out of her mouth next.

“Did you have a nice nap?” She asked “innocently.”

“Yes, yes, well...Time Lords do sleep...” The Doctor shrugged, eyes on the console, hands busy flipping switches and turning knobs.

“What did you dream about?”  
  
“I think we've had enough dreams for today, Amy.” The Doctor turned, seeing Rory coming down the stairs, “Rory! There you are! Right, so...where to? Amy? I believe it's your choice...” The Doctor met her eyes and something, something made one of his hearts give a little jump. Something about her eyes. Just the way she was looking at him. No, no, it was silly. Silly...she couldn't have seen his dream...still, the note...the note...Amy wrote that note, didn't she?

Did he talk in his sleep now?

They just stared at each other, the Doctor with his hands hovering above the controls, waiting for Amy's answer. Amy with her arms crossed waiting for the Doctor to say something else.  
   
“Amy?” Rory's questioning voice broke their staring contest.  
   
“Rio.” Amy said with a smile, her eyes moved from the Doctor to Rory.  
   
“Rio! Okay!” The Doctor, glad for her answer, but at the same time...disappointed. What was he expecting her to say? Gallifrey? Ha. There was no way Amy knew what he had dreamed of...even with the Dream Lords little hints and even if he might have muttered in his sleep. It was foolish to even...the Doctor shook his head absentmindedly.   
  
Amy made her choice. She had made a good choice too, Rory could marry her, Rory could spend his life with her—he couldn't. The Doctor, at least, had Amy in his dreams.  
  
The TARDIS hummed to life and the Doctor buzzed about the console, muttering and talking to himself and his companions. “Hey, Doctor, Rio could be like...your wedding gift to us.” Rory said.

The Doctor grinned, “Yeah...yeah, sure! Why not?”


End file.
